Redemtion
by Cynthia Krenshaw
Summary: Tony is a lot of things, but is he a murderer? Written for the NCIS challenge. Pulled down the original to rearrange it a bit. Please read, review, and enjoy! As always, all comments and suggestions especially suggestions Are welcome T to start
1. Chapter 1

Tony took a deep breath, focusing the scope on his target. He fired off one shot. The watermelon exploded, as the round penetrated. He smiled, taking a deep breath.

"Now you're getting it, T." A man in black camo said, kneeling next to him.

"Yeah, and it only took four months."

"Speaking of four month, you wanna tell me why you're doing this?"

"I told you, Sammy. I've seen too much. I want to move out to the woods, and live off the land."

"And how does you sleeping on my couch for four months fit into that plan? Come on, Tony. We've been best friends since the academy. You're up to something."

"Why can't a man learn to shoot a sniper rifle without getting the third degree?"

"The question answers itself." Tony laughed, getting up.

"You on duty tonight?"

"Yeah, I start in an hour."

"I'll explain it all when you come in, OK?"

"You better. My girlfriend's sick and tired of seeing your tired mug on my couch."

"Hey, what happened to the code?"

"Tell me about the code when you fall in love." Sam said, walking off.

McGee stepped off the elevator timidly. Abby's moods lately had been more eratic . She didn't take to loss and change well, and when Tony turned in his badge and left without a word, she got hit with both. He took a deep breath, and walked in, finding Abby at her computer.

"Abs . . ."

"I FOUND HIM!" She screamed, giggling.

"Found who?" McGee asked, walking over. Abby laid a gibbs-slap on the back of his head.

"Tony."

"Where is he?"

"Cleveland. He just used his credit card to purchase a ticket to . . . . Oh, no."

"What, Abby?" She turned, to see Gibbs.

"Nothing, I was just . . ."

"Working on a case." McGee said, finishing her sentence. Gibbs slapped him twice in the back of the head.

"That was for both of you lying to me. Abby, you want to tell me what's going on before Elf Lord gets a concussion?"

"I found Tony."

"Where?"

"Cleveland. He's flying to France tomorrow." Gibbs nods, walking out.

"I wonder where he's . . ." Abby Gibbs-slaps him again.

"I'm going to change your name from Elf Lord to Captain Obvious."

Tony packed the last of his clothes into the small suitcase. He normally didn't travel light. But, he reminded himself, when this was over, clothes wouldn't be an issue. He smiled, leaving a note on the couch. Sam was one of his best friends, but the less he knew about this, the better.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony walked through the Cleveland Hopkins International airport. He dropped his bag in the X Ray machine, and stepped through the metal detector. Collecting his bags, he made his way to his gate. Twenty minutes later, he boarded the flight. He made his way to his seat, and groaned to himself, seeing he was seated next to a man, who was already sweating profusely. Putting his bag in the cramped overhead, he sat down.

"Hi, I'm Louie." The man said, extending his hand. DiNozzo shook it, sweat covering his palm.

"Tony. Nervous there?" The man nods.

"Yeah, first flight. I wouldn't even be on this one if my boss didn't insist."

"Well, don't worry. I had a drink with the pilot earlier. Nice guy." The man swallowed hard, as Tony's inward grin grew. Maybe this flight won't suck after all.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Why would I kid about that? Don't worry, though. He said he did it all the time in the Air Force. Until that little problem with his F-16 engine." Tony watched the man's face go pale, as the steward began the safety instructions.

" . . . And your seat cushion can function as a floatation device . . ."

"See, that's the one I don't get. If I'm stuck in the middle of the ocean, I wouldn't want to be floating on a cushion of beer farts. Once was enough." The man grabbed the airsick bag, and proceeded to fill it, as the plane takes off. The man was still throwing up, as the stewardess made her way through the crowded plane.

"Mr. DiNozzo?" Tony looked up, seeing a beautiful blonde woman. He smiled that DiNozzo smile.

"Yes?"

"Your ticket has been upgraded. Come with me." Tony gets his bag, looking at his sick former seat mate.

"Nice talking with you, Louie. Have a nice flight." Tony grinned, as he walked off. The grin slid off his face, as he saw Ziva David, reading a book.

"This is your seat, Mr. DiNozzo." The stewardess said, pointing to the empty chair next to Ziva. He smiles, putting up his bag.

"Thanks," The stewardess nods, walking off.

"So, have you been to Paris, Tony?" Tony rolls his eyes.

"Why are you here?"

"Why am I where, Tony?"

"Z, why are you on this plane? I'm not in NCIS anymore."

"I have never been to Paris as a tourist. I was always on a mission. I wanted to take in the sights."

"And you just happen to catch the plane in Cleveland? How did you guys find me?"

"One of the first rules of disappearing off the map. Do not use your personal credit card to purchase anything." Tony smiled.

"Abby. How is my favorite goth?"

"Depressed and worried about you."

"I'm fine. I wish you all would understand. I'm fine. I just need some down time. Life's too short."

"Drink, Mr. Dinozzo?" Tony smiles, looking up.

"Two glasses of champagne," The woman gets the glasses, as Tony rifles in his pocket, "Leave the bottle." He said, slipping a crisp fifty dollar bill in her pocket.

"Yes, sir."She handed Ziva and Tony the glasses, and the bottle. Tony pops the cork, and pours two glasses.

"To a much needed vacation for the both of us." Ziva said, clinking his glass.

"You know, last time we were in France . . ." Ziva sips the champagne.

"So, what are we going to see first?"

"We?"

"Yes. I've booked the honeymoon suite at the Hotel Du Petit Moulin. Under assumed names, of course."

"Nice place. How'd you swing that?"

"Called in a favor."

"You know, the last time we were in Paris . . ."

"I remember. That's the reason for the aliases." Tony grinned, sipping the champagne.

Sam target shot whenever something was on his mind. He had already shot the center out of four targets, when he noticed the grey haired man watching him from observation. Readying his weapon, he holstered it, and met the man at the door.

"Can I help you?"

"Agent Gibbs, NCIS." Sam smiled.

"I thought that was you. You're exactly like Tony described you."

"So, you know why I'm here?"

"Yeah, I think so. You're too late, though. I came home last night and he was gone."

"Did he say anything?"

"Just that he was tired of the NCIS workload, and he'd seen too much. Asked me to teach him how to shoot a sniper rifle."

"That didn't seem like an odd request to you? Or do you train just anybody to snipe?"

"Look, Tony and I met in the academy. We worked the beat together until he joined NCIS. He was the best man at my wedding. And the first one to buy me a drink when she left. Agent Gibbs, he's the best friend I have. If the man asked me to slug Satan while he slipped out of hell, I'd do it. Besides that, Agent Gibbs, you and I both know Tony's not a killer."

"Did he mention anything about Paris, France?"

"Just that he worked undercover with a woman there once. No details, but he did say he'd like to go back. You think that's where he's headed?"

"Not sure at the moment." The man grins.

"Tony says you're good with a gun," Gibbs smirked. The man hands Gibbs his nine millimeter and the clip, "Let's see of you're as good as the legend." Gibbs smiles, taking the gun. Gibbs slapped the clip in, as Sam sent a new target down to the end of the range. Gibbs chambered the first round. Barely aiming, he empties the clip.

"Your sights are a quarter millimeter off." Gibbs walks away, as Sam reels the target in.

"Damn!" Sam said, laughing. Gibbs had landed one shot to the head, and eight to the torso. Sam shook his head in disbelief. For the first time in his life, Tony DiNozzo hadn't exaggerated.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. Hope it doesn't disappoint! Trying to keep everyone reasonably in character. Stretching Tim's a bit in this chapter. Any comments or suggestions are always welcome! Especially constructive criticism. I love to find ways to improve my writing! Enjoy, and I don't own anything from NCIS, except season one's dvds. But, if CBS is feeling generous . . . *Grin*

McGee sat alone in the squad room, looking at Tony's desk. Free time was a luxury at NCIS. He couldn't figure out why he was spending his focused on a man that had spent the better part of four years torturing him. Gluing his hands to the desk. His head to the keyboard. Yet, it was all he could think about for weeks. Tony made it a point to mess with him. Four months, and even Ziva didn't prank him. McGee sighed, realizing he missed it. He missed the pranks. The harsh ribbing. Mainly, he missed his older brother from another mother.

"McGee, it's two in the morning. What are you still doing here?"

"Sorry, Boss. Just catching up on paperwork."

"Go home, McGee."

"Boss, did you find Tony?"

"If I found him, would I be here alone, McGee?"

"Agent David is with him on there way to Paris." They both turn, to see Vance.

"This your idea, director? I'm already one down."

"You know as well as I do, Gibbs. He's not going to see the sights. Until we find out what he's doing, it's in the best interest of the agency to keep him under close surveillance."

"Director, you can't believe Tony would do anything to compromise NCIS." McGee said, as he put on his jacket.

"I don't know what to think, McGee. That's what worries me."

"Director, you know I respect you, right," Vance nodded, chomping the toothpick, "If you think Tony would do anything to compromise or jeopardize NCIS, you need to pull your head out of your ass before that toothpick perforates your rectum. Goodnight, boss. See you tomorrow." Both senior agents watched open mouthed, as Tim headed for the elevator.

"He'd better apologize . . ."

"Sign of weakness!" Tim shouted, as the doors closed. Vance and Gibbs both chuckled.

"He's really coming into his own without Tony." Gibbs shrugs.

"There's a lot of skills we all bring to the party, Leon. Tony is one of the best, if not the best, field agents I've trained. McGee is coming along right on his footsteps. Ziva is one of the strongest female agents I've seen in a long time, now that we've gotten her out of assassin mode."

"And where do you fit into this, Leroy?" Gibbs smiles.

"I'm the ringmaster." Vance laughs.

"You're worried about Tony, too?" Gibbs shrugs again.

"He's a big boy, director. He can take care of himself."

"Explains why you drove to Cleveland last night on your own time. I've assigned the backup team to take on any upcoming cases until we sort this mess out."

"Seems like a waste of agency funds." Vance laughs.

"If you want to talk about a waste of funds, you should see what Ziva's hotel room is costing us." Gibbs chuckled.

"The lady has expensive tastes, director."

"Yeah, but she's worth it." Leon walked off, as Gibbs chuckled to himself.

Tony hailed a cab, yawning. After a two hour connecting flight to New York, and a fifteen hour flight with a stopover in London, jetlag was kicking in big time. He looked back at Ziva, who wasn't faring much better.

"We'll be at the hotel soon, sweets." He kissed her cheek.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, we're supposed to be honeymooners, right?"

"We're supposed to be tourists." Tony smirked.

"My mistake." Tony said, opening the cab door.

"I didn't say I didn't like it." Ziva said, sitting down, as the trunk popped open. Tony put in the bags. As he sat down, he found the cab driver and Ziva conversing in French. Seconds later, the cab cut off another, picking up speed.

Ducky got off the elevator, taking off his trenchcoat. He entered the autopsy room, finding a manila envelope on his desk. He pulled the tabs on the envelope, removing the report. As he read it, he compared it to crime scene photos of the girl.

"Oh, dear. Tony was right."

"Right about what, Duck?" Ducky turned, to see Gibbs.

"You shouldn't sneak up on an old man, Jethro."

"I didn't sneak up on an old man, Duck. What was Tony right about?"

"Tony asked me to get an autopsy report from the French consulate for Tina Roberts."

"The girl they found floating in the Seine river?"

"Yes. Apparently Tony didn't think she drown. He was right. Look at these photos." He showed Gibbs the photos.

"Looks like she was strangled."

"Exactly. But the autopsy report doesn't indicate any assault or defensive bruising of any kind. Someone is trying to cover this poor girl's death up."

"Where did you get the photos?" Ducky smiles.

"An old friend."

"Tell Fornell I owe him."

"What makes you think it was Fornell?" Gibbs shot him the look, and walked off.

Tony got out of the cab carefully. Ziva laughed, as the doorman collected the bags.

"I thought you were a bad driver. Jeez!" Tony said, rubbing his sore neck.

"He made good time." Ziva said, sticking her head in the passenger window. After a short conversation in French, the driver laughed, taking Ziva's money.

"What did you tell him?"

"Thank you for the ride."

"Yeah, I love getting whiplash on my first day of vacation." Ziva laughed again, as they both went inside.


End file.
